Soap Bubbles
by DorkDoori
Summary: -AU- "A thin film of soapy water enclosing air that forms a hollow sphere with an iridescent surface, usually lasting only a few seconds before bursting, either on its own or on contact with another object." This is a 'soap bubble' love story...or is it? . . .Warning: LEMON CONTENT
1. Chapter 1

Faded, long russet locks cascaded down her frail porcelain shoulders in assorted disarray, slender arms draped limply over equally slender legs, tucked visibly towards her slow-heaving chest in a make-shift fetal pose. Hushed sobs escaped dry rosebud lips at minute intervals. The teenager rocked silently in her otherwise still seat. Prying her heavy head from watered knee-caps, the female ran a trembling hand carelessly through streaks of fiery ginger hair, pushing the lot of it out of her wet face to reveal a pale countenance, blotched red from excessive tears and exhausted frustration. She breathed in a shaky breath of oxygen. The air seemed foul, as was her mood.

Figuring enough was enough, she sought needful distraction out the blinds-covered window beside her perch. She pushed aside the wooden slats a tad to glimpse an endless pool of darkness littered with blurry splats of multicolor and her own ghost-like apparition staring back through the glass. The distraction proved useless and she soon found her thoughts straying to the very incident that had driven an indiscriminate wedge in her future-her parents' separation.

Devastated by the earlier knowledge, the teenager choked back another sob. Minutes ticked on, courtesy of the analog clock by her bedside as she resumed the effort to quell the onslaught of overwhelming negative emotions.

Not that she hadn't seen it coming, the red-head decided; the more than occasional disagreements had over the course of a few short years evolved into heated arguments, accompanied by first a lack and then entire nonexistence of family togetherness. She'd played mediator for a long time but her own limited control over the tireless situation had expired ages past. For her parents never relented to resolve their issues with one another and had eventually pitted their angers against her. She blamed many things over time, many ill-fortunes. But what was the use now.

"Over," the quivering whisper left her dry lips. _It was over_.

* * *

[1 year later]

"Nice shot!"

A comradely clap on the back and his senior teammate hustled back over to his mark so as to not forestall the remainder of the game. Though a practice match, the season was young and given this was their very first of the year the Odaiba Knights were looking to win-and win they would, if he was any judge. The athletic teen jogged back over to his own position.

Having gained entrance into Hikarigaoka High upon the hearty assistance of a basketball scholarship, he was the latest addition to the team and through sheer determination backed up by immense potential and a positive presence of skill-or talent, some would fancy, he had been awarded with a regular position as of the start of the competitive season. The highlight of his early high school days thus far.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, the male teen focused the prime of his attention on the game ball as it was tossed into the air. In a manner of seconds his team's point guard had gained control of the game yet again, dancing expert dribbles around their rival team's defence like cakewalk. Their opponents this time were hardly the challenge.

Faking a turn, the teen made a swift dodge of his two opposition markers, calling the ball with his aquamarine eyes. It made its way to him in the form of a vivid pass from a teammate. Feeling the path laid out open before him, the honey blond-haired individual made no waste of his opportunity, dashing towards the rival team's hoop at top speed. He aimed for a direct approach but so it would seem the opposition's center had rushed in to stop him before he could so much as chance any closer to his goal. No matter, that was where the taller male's error lay.

Smirking deviously, the blond managed yet another fake, this time in the form of a jump shot. His marker fell for it with ease only to stare at him in shocked disbelief as the blond basketball prodigy leaped off the court floor a mere appropriate instance after his opponent's maximum block height had been reached. He aimed his shot, let the ball fly and could have sworn he'd heard the victorious sound of leather slipping through string netting all but loud and clear. The game had been won, as was soon determined by the sound of the stop-clock whistle less than twenty seconds later.

_This is just the beginning_.


	2. Chapter 2

Takeru had been wandering the streets of Shinjuku on his way back from dinner with his teammates, a treat from their esteemed coach for having played so well in their first game of the season. Most of his teammates had taken the train home, the coach had taken a cab. He had opted to walk along with one of the second-year regulars, Kurosawa until their respective destinations had led to them splitting up some ten minutes ago. Now he was on his own and despite the late hour had no sooner found himself less than eager to head back to his apartment complex at the sudden memory of his workaholic mother being away on a travel assignment; doing some latent report on the after-effects of the earthquake near the Northern parts of Japan, or something. Either way, she wouldn't be home for another week, _'or two, or three…'_

Takeru knew his mother was the type to bury herself behind her work. It was just the very woman she happened to be. No, he didn't hate her for it. After all, she had single-handedly clothed and fed him with ease over the course of his childhood years thanks to her diligent work ethics and high-paying, not forgetting high-publicity job as a TV reporter slash personality. _'No'_, Takeru decided again, he did not hate her, nor was he angry or upset with her the way she was. In all honesty he just wished she wouldn't leave him alone for weeks—at times months—on end with nothing but the few, curt phone call check-ups spaced in-between. And so he sauntered along the brightly lit streets of Shinjuku, paying little attention to head anywhere in particular.

Willing his mind at ease, the blond observed with interest as others, typically the older working crowd rushed towards and out of train stations as he passed, determined to get home to family even a second earlier no doubt. He then watched languidly as dozens of four-wheeled vehicles traveled along the Ome-kaido, its drivers likely wielding similar objectives in mind. As Takeru strolled, the world around him seemed to blend into the distance—sights of bright neons merged into a nightly rainbow at each minute turn and the sounds of the hustle and bustle of shoes, wheels and the lowly hum of electrical machinery combined to form a sleepless yet soothing melody, flitting across the spring night time city atmosphere in a sort of audible mellow wave.

"Please, let me go!" The cry of English words had startled him, jarring the sleepless melody that had been his focus of hearing into the background. It was a woman's voice.

"Don't be like that doll," slurred a gruffer, deeper voice with a non-Japanese accent. This one was obviously male, and drunk, Takeru could tell. Suddenly alert and scanning the perimeter for the source of this commotion he found it upon the aid of a third speaker who sounded as lecherous as his phrasing of "Come on babe, we said we'd pay you."

The blond took in the situation with his eyes—three Caucasian men, drunk by the very unsure looks about their gait, not to mention their reddened faces. _'Foreigners'_, Takeru's mind chanted, then feeling an instant sense of unease as he noticed the girl sandwiched amongst the trio, their combination of hands unabashedly claiming her wrists, elbows, and another he could see at the side of her hip crawling dangerously lower still to the back of her skirt…

Instinctively, his eyes found her face, burning the evidence of her distress to the core of his memory—he had to do something. Wondering why no other passerby of the night time crowd had sought to intercept the unwanted exchange on the girl's part, Takeru boldly ignored the reasonings in his head that were yelling to him that he was outnumbered and nowhere near as stocky in build as the three grown men he was about to confront as he marched up towards them. Refusing to listen to the part of his conscience responsible for personal safety, he tapped onto the back of the nearest male's shoulder, doing his best to reel in his heightened anger as the man cast him an unfocused lazy eye.

"Let her go," he all but demanded sternly. The man merely shrugged him off with a snort.

"I said let her go!" He tried again, more commanding. He jerked a hand on the man's shoulder in an attempt to stop him from turning away from him when a wild punch came zooming at his face. Takeru avoided, thanking the drunk's lack of balance for the easy dodge and defensively launched a sweeping kick at his assailant's legs, sending the poor chap face-first into the cobblestone street with a wretched-sounding grunt.

"Why you-" threatened a second assailant and Takeru wasted no time sending him toppling to the ground as well with a little help from the girl he had been trying to assist having smartly struck her heel out under the man's feet. "Duck!" The blond warned her, all but cloth-lining the last drunk in surprisingly WWE fashion when she complied.

"Run!" He urged then, grabbing a hold of her hand and steering them both speedily from the scene before the trio sobering up enough to pursue became fact.

Ten straight minutes of running through the night crowd—being especially mindful to avoid other drunks—Takeru felt the slight tugs on his arm as the girl he'd been dragging by the wrist stumbled to keep up with his pace in her high heels. He slowed them down to a walk at that, eventually turning the corner into a quieter alleyway so they could both catch their breaths.

The blond leaned his back against the nearest bit of wall, panting rather laborly after this latest exertion. Heck he was a trained athlete but the severity of the situation had taken quite a bit out of him too. Taking in his immediate surroundings, Takeru found a silly need to reprimand himself—he was in the middle of Kabukichou, notorious red-light district of Shinjuku. After all, what other part of the specific ward had this many bars hanging around; and of course there was the exceedingly active nightlife and commonplace sight of foreigners. Talk about not paying attention to where one's going.

"You're a little young to be hanging around here at this time of night, don't you think," the appealing tone of his companion's feminine voice called his attention back to her.

As if truly seeing her for the first time that night Takeru drank in her appearance from head to toe—long, wavy auburn hair framing a fashionably made-up face and brown eyes. Accentuating her slender figure was a cropped soft grey-denim jacket over a black tank-top-like blouse, tucked in just below the waist with a horizontally striped mini skirt. Black thigh-high tights elongated her slim legs while white, laced-up ankle boot stilettos served to further define her very evident femininity.

The blond gulped perceptibly. "And whose fault is that," he croaked, immediately regretting the stupid guttural sound of his voice; even without noting the oddly amused look she was flashing him.

"You were already here before that you know," she offered, sounding calmer than before. Takeru guessed she was trying to help him ease out of his tense state. He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to relax if only a little.

"Wasn't…the plan," he admitted at length, looking back over towards the busy street. He had just wanted to prolong the return to his empty apartment. Heavens knew he'd end up in a red-light district of all places. But the blond teen didn't have time for contemplations. By sheer dumb luck he caught sight of the very three men he had so unceremoniously knocked down minutes ago, having apparently sobered up some.

As if drawn in by his sudden arousal of fear, one of the men likewise caught sight of him, then alerting the other two and making pointing gestures in his direction. "Shit," Takeru hissed, evidently throwed. And then he was racing down the rest of the alleyway as the girl he had saved minutes past had seen fit to drag him away from the hurried footfalls of their chasers. Too confused to argue, he said nothing as the red-head led him down a number of twists and turns and up a shallow flight of stairs before shoving him against a fairly obscure wall and pressing hard against him—some act of concealment.

Feeling their bodies collide, it was all Takeru could do to not voice the strange yearning he was beginning to feel tingling all over his skin. Where her body touched he swore his soul was on fire. Whoever this girl was he was clearly attracted to her. _'With good reason'_, his mind chimed, and damn it was starting to show.

"Where did they go?" More English phrases. Being able to make out what was said had to mean they were close. If anything, the girl's pressing herself even harder against him only certified the knowledge. A gasp escaped his unwilling lips, heat pooled in his nether regions as his breath came in short aching huffs.

"You guys hear something?" _'Darn stupid English words'_, Takeru cursed inwardly. _'Leave!_' he willed. As for the life of him he knew not how to stunt his desperate need for air. In an instant however he realized his companion had an answer.

Cupping his face with her hands, the girl pulled him down to her height, then planting one full on his lips and he froze.

"Nothing, sheesh, let's try that way." Takeru heard the footsteps fade but his mind had to be a million miles away. Her lips were soft to the touch but she had certainly not laid it on him gently—this girl was kissing him hard, forcefully, hungrily. Or rather it was him who was hungry, hungry for more. And what with their bodies pressed up so intimately close.

Probably discerning it safe after a moment, she made to pull away but Takeru felt his craving get the better of him. He lurched forwards at her, giving no time for their lips to separate as he attacked with a lavish quality of force of his own. She was surprised he could tell when her lips parted abruptly at his animalistic display. And yet, for some reason he couldn't resist taking advantage of this. Takeru inserted his tongue, caressing her own with passionate fervor. His arms found their strength and pushed her up against the opposite wall, keeping her there as he in turn pressed his heated male body against her female one, trapping her so very severely in his lustfully violent kiss—his first kiss, and god was it good.

When at last he ended the kiss, albeit reluctantly needing the air to feed his lungs with precious oxygen, it occurred to him that she had not fought back. Curious, he feasted the sight of her with his aquamarine gaze. Face mere inches from his own, he knew now more than ever she was strikingly beautiful. Her eyes, the light shade of brown he had assumed them to be earlier was more a scarlet red now that he had looked at them carefully. Her copper hair was a slight mess from their running, lips parted attractively bore the minute smudge of matte lipstick on its outer corners. Takeru guessed he was to blame for that. But her eyes,_ 'gosh her scarlet eyes'_. They gave her a dazed, dream-like appearance—the look of a woman thoroughly kissed, and somehow he wondered if maybe he too had that very expression on his face.

"Wow," she voiced, barely over a whisper; a highly sensual whisper if he was any judge.

"Wow," he agreed back as they shared a smile of sorts.


	3. Chapter 3

Takeru fiddled with his fingers. Sitting on the end of a rather well made-up bed, he glanced not at his surroundings, having grown immune to their tacky decorative charms some ten minutes ago. Decked in a white, sash-ed up towel robe and a pair of cheap-looking indoor slippers, courtesy of the hotel room he found himself in not long after the night's earlier events, the blond teen pursed his eyes shut—some awkward form of forced relaxation.

Fingers keeping on with their mindless fidgeting, his ears registered the sound of splattering water from the attached bath facility; from where he had stood bare mere minutes past. He had the dampness of his blond locks to show for it. The shower had been occupied for a while since his leave to dry himself off. Takeru breathed a shaky exhale, recalling how he had ended up in this situation.

* * *

He hadn't been able to take it. He'd kissed her again, and again, and again. She'd responded lightly at first, then more heatedly. Eventually she had started grinning and giggling as he began necking her. Kissing, sucking, caressing his way down her sensually attractive bodice, he had almost but lost himself in the moment, finding sense when one of his hands had skimmed the underside of her breast and his lips hovered dangerously close down her front; where the low collar of her blouse hid her womanly assets from his vision.

"They're gone," she had informed, painfully swallowing a moan as her hands began to edge his away from her sides. Takeru didn't know what had overcome him. He knew their pursuers were gone and that they were safe. There was no need for them to continue their session and yet panic gripped at him with a vice. He didn't want it to end. He didn't want to just let this girl go and pretend for the rest of his life that tonight hadn't happened between them.

She brushed past him listlessly, heading for the stairs. Takeru's mind blanked. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it? To let her walk away before this turned into something scandalous and upsetting but no, he couldn't do it. As far as the teen was concerned the only upsetting thing he could fathom then and there was letting her disappear from his life without a trace after that heated first kiss they had shared. It took him all but three seconds to race down the steps after her at the decision, grab a hold of her arm, spin her around and crash his lips to hers in yet another mind-blowing kiss.

His senses whirled. She felt _so_ good, _so_ right. He needed this girl, wanted her—_wanted_ her…

"Wait, st-"

"I can't stop!" He cut her off, partially aware of how pathetically desperate his voiced sounded but could not care less. She stared up at him, shaken or surprised by his outburst he didn't know which.

"I can't…please…I-" But she shushed him with a finger to his lips. Holding her scarlet gaze with his aquamarine eyes he realized she wasn't fixing him with a look of pity.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Takeru breathed deep. How was it that this girl whom he'd barely known minutes ago could be so understanding of his plight.

"…no." And that was all it took.

* * *

Lost in thought, he hadn't heard her approach but opened his eyes as he felt a towel being draped over his head. He looked up at her standing before him in a similar robe, ginger hair cascading agreeably down the sides of her pretty porcelain face as she massaged the towel back and forth over his blond hair in attempt to dry it more properly. Curious, he reached for her hair, stroking a neatly dried lock between his fingers.

"Hairdryer," she answered simply. Takeru nodded mutely at that. It hadn't taken him long to work out that she was no stranger to this part of town, or this scenario even.

As per his desires she had led them to a love hotel, walking in as if she had done it a million times and seemed familiar enough with its attendant by the front counter—the pair of hands behind frosted glass—to coerce the individual into giving them a free night's stay. Thankfully too, he figured, pretty sure he didn't have much on him. A moment longer and he released her hair from his touch just as she made to chuck the towel aside near the bathroom door.

"You're sure you want to go through with this?" She asked. He feasted the sight of her in return as she made to face him again. Eyes sweeping over the slender body he knew she possessed under the shield of that robe, his gaze drifted blatantly from the tie at her waist to the kimono-like collar of the garment as it dipped threateningly low down the center of her chest.

Takeru gulped, resistance wasn't going to come easy for him. "Yes."

**Author's note: Be warned, next chapter WILL contain lemon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: LEMON content.  
**

* * *

His reply a sure sign for her to proceed, she inched her face to his, tipping his chin up with a delicate prod of gentle fingertips. Lingering a casually sensual instance before him the redhead assumed leisure in scorching the sight of the attractive younger blond gazing up at her with baited breath to the depths of her soul.

Oh he _wanted_ her alright.

That much she could discern easily, what with the longing and desire very much alive in his eyes as she held his ogling gaze with a well-put-on tantalizing aura. The girl felt no qualms—this boy had rescued her from a rather uncompromising situation. Few decent men—if any in the past—had come to her aid in similar circumstances, much to her (though expected) dismay.

She stroked his lips, feeling him shiver and adorned a faint smile.

The girl recalled, on one such occurrence she had found herself taken in the most disgusting of ways. Clothes ripped roughly from her being. She had been manhandled with a savage lacking of care, ears burned with the sounds of salacious laughter as she endured the horrors of rape by a count of faceless men, all who cared nothing for her.

She had collapsed to the ground when it was over, drenched in a multitude of sweat that was not her own. Sores and aches seared her limbs and muscles. She'd used the load of cash they'd dumped across her stomach for the humiliating trip to the hospital where she'd miraculously learned she hadn't incurred any major injuries.

The redhead had laughed at that, loud and hard, garnering skeptical looks from the ward nurses. The leftover money was enough to finance two months worth of rent. What _luck_…

Deciding his prolonged wait had been sufficient, she kissed him. Slight and tender, she brushed lightly at his jaw, sliding her feather-soft touch to his nape, pressing mildly. His response was eager as he leaned into the kiss with evident thirst.

Feeling the previous slack of his body muscles grow taut at her caress, she eased into his lap, dropping her right shoulder intentionally in the process and allowing the fabric of her robe to slide off in a suggestive manner. A gravelly growl rumbled from her companion's throat at the arousing gesture. She broke the kiss, eyeing the spectacle of him as his attention wafted to the peek of her bra and exposed skin with awe and realized her own brewing elation at this.

Sensing his uncertainty, she reached for his left hand where he had set it, fisted tightly around the sheets by his side. Rubbing the back of his palm with her thumb in encouraging circles, she guided his quivering appendage up her slender frame before molding it reassuringly to the shape of her right breast. Scarlets searched aquamarine orbs as she observed him panting heavily at her actions.

"I-I…"

"Go on. It's all right," she spurred, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

The blond gulped with great effort but seemed to sidestep some of his hesitance. He proceeded to fondle her with increasing fervor, slipping his other hand around her waist to bring her closer to him and began tracing delicate kisses down the smooth skin of her collarbone until his lips met the black cotton fabric of her bra.

Engaged in a heated swell of lust, Takeru kissed at the skin bordering the garment, eliciting rapturous sighs form the redhead as she arched towards him on impulse. He could feel her shudder against him, noting the other side of her robe fall off her shoulder in light of her amorous motions.

He marveled at the sight of her, savoring the glint of emotion in her hot eyes as she pulled him to her for a passion-filled smooch. Their tongues danced as he dared his left hand the thrill of slipping under the cup of her bra, stroking the bare skin of her nipple.

She moaned into him. Motivated, Takeru gripped at the bra's clasp with his right, probing her glassy eyes for consent then unhooking the clasp when she gave it to him.

'_Beautiful'_, the thought claimed his mind as the garment fell to the floor forgotten.

He was sixteen years old; sure he had seen a woman's breasts before—granted they were through various forms of media—but though excitement had seized him time and time again in the past this live vision was truly something else.

'_Beautiful'_, he thought again, feeling a surge of feral heat pool in between his thighs. She was a sight for sore eyes and he found himself mesmerized by the sheer splendor of her.

"You like what you see," she said, drawing his attention back to her smirking visage.

"I do," he croaked in agreement. There was no point denying.

Clearly she was far from being nervous as he was, making no move to cover herself from his hungry gaze. He observed with bulging eyes as she made to alter her position on his lap, swinging her left leg over to his other side to straddle him at the hips, proclaiming a shocked gasp from his lips as he felt his heated tip graze at her entrance.

Instinctively, he cinched her waist to prevent her from lowering herself fully onto him in fear of losing his already-dwindling self-control. She giggled knowingly at that but made no move to reprimand him, instead slinking both hands subtly into his robe, pulling it apart; then regarding the intoxicated expression on his features that gave away his arousal.

Grinning to herself, the redhead let her digits ghost seductively over the tautness of his shoulders, chest and stomach, undoing the sash that held the robe together before stripping it off his muscular form with minimal effort. It was her turn to stare.

Takeru's covet gaze surely mirrored her own now. Save for a pair of boxers he sat nude before her, hands still clinging gravely to her waist. _'An athlete's body'_, she hadn't been able to tell for certain from his earlier attire—a long-sleeved jersey and beige cargo pants.

Unabashed, her hands caressed the muscles of his chest, feeling them flex and tense at the touch of her sensitive fingers. She smiled at him and chuckled.

"Sure you're not Mr. Popular with the girls?" She was genuinely curious.

The blond appeared to blush at the question but soon found his voice. "No, I don't think so," he said, somewhat amused. "My brother and his band mates more likely."

"You've a brother?"

He nodded. "Older brother, but we don't live together," he sighed in delight, acceding her fingers to brush at his ribs. "My parents are divorced," he informed her, surprising himself.

Noticing him stiffen she called his eyes to her own and cast him an understanding smile. "Mine are too," she revealed.

"You'll be okay."

She kissed him deeply then, snaking her tongue past his lips and pressed against him. She heard him moan into her mouth at the exhilarating contact of bare skin on skin, her breasts against his strong chest. His hands trembled at her sides. Boldly, she looped her arms behind his neck, conducting him closer still as her hands tangled themselves in his blond hair. At long last she broke the fiery kiss.

Near breathless, Takeru felt dizzy with desire. His chest heaved with the need for air but the hardness in his briefs suggested his necessity was otherwise.

"I want you," he admitted, voice hoarse with overwhelming lust. She grinned willfully at him in reply, then moving his right hand to the pool of hot wetness between her legs. "Then take me," she whispered.

'_To hell with control'_. The thought bit sharply at him as he felt her through her underwear, bleeding him of hesitance.

He pushed her flat onto the bed, stripped her completely of the hotel robe and kicked off his slippers before settling to poise over her near-fully exposed form. He lingered dreamily for an extended moment, then kissing her long and wet on the lips as his hands roamed freely over her slender frame.

Soon he followed their path with his lips, paying cherished attention to her neck, shoulders, breasts, stomach, working his way down her body with loving care. Grinning confidently to himself as she moaned and squirmed beneath him. "You're beautiful," he told her, fiddling with the cotton article of clothing hiding her most sacred part. Tugging it off pass her legs with a slight measure of difficulty, he discarded the piece to the floor.

Eyes hazed over with a voracious appetite of libido, Takeru noted again that she made no move to veil herself and he puffed inwardly. The girl knew he liked what he saw—she wasn't going to stop him from enjoying her. On the contrary, she was helping his inexperienced self every single step of the way.

Taking his hand in hers, she beckoned him to her. "Touch me," she rasped, it was all the invitation he needed.

Supporting his weight on his left elbow, Takeru let the fingers of his dominant hand spook across her entrance, watching with fascinated eyes as the girl beneath him gasped and arched her hips towards him in pleasure. Somehow recalling conversations with seniors at school about the act of lovemaking, the blond experimented with his feather-light touches, stroking and rubbing at model intervals as he gaged her frenzied response.

Her moans were a seducing drug, egging him on. He rubbed again at her clit before feeling courageous enough to insert a finger inside of her wet walls, then curling the lone digit towards him. Her body spasmed harshly at that, hands grasping for the sheets of the bed at the compelling sensation as her eyes found his. He smiled at her, revelling in the accomplishment that he could make her feel as good as her eyes were conveying she felt.

He locked his mouth to hers ardently. Still working his finger within her Takeru choked back a gasp, breaking their kiss as a sudden wave of rapture beguiled him and he paused in his ministrations.

"Wh-What…" he trailed of. Then noticing the smug look she was wearing as she felt him up through his briefs. Tugging the material down, she exposed his hard shaft to full view.

Takeru flushed. He had never shown his all to anyone before—this was a big step and it frightened him. His member was erect and hot, evidence of his aroused state. Feeling completely vulnerable he chanced a glance her way, scanning her expression with dread for a sign of a negative reaction. It amazed him to find none.

The soothing quality of her smile put his fears of rejection at bay. "You're incredible," she voiced sensuously, boosting his ego then inclining her head towards him so their lips could meet in a chaste kiss.

Takeru relished the feel of her as she stroked along the tip of his shaft with her thumb. Growing harder still, he grunted restlessly in anticipation, blood pumping hard through his veins.

"I-I…ah…"

"Shh," she calmed, cradling his cheek with her free palm.

"I know," she assured, guiding his pulsing member to her entrance. The blond caught his breath. Wild sensations of intense pleasure rocketing throughout his being at the desired contact—every fiber of him ached to be one with her.

Shifting her position with care, she resumed straddling him at the hips, hands fastening securely at his nape as she focused her scarlet orbs on his bewitched aquamarines.

"I'm yours," she purred. The world spun as he thrust into her and they both tensed.

Her walls were hot and tight. Takeru could feel it all. He heard her whimper, realizing her inner muscles were making an effort to grow used to his size and length. Her squeezing was driving him giddy with the need for more but he knew he had to wait.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. Had he been too aggressive?

She nodded back at him, pulling him close. "Go on," she coaxed, persuading him to continue their lovemaking. Takeru was more than happy to oblige.

He built up a steady rhythm thrusting in and out of her repetitively. Slow at first, the escalating urgency of her euphoric cries as she writhed and thrashed on the mattress urged his endeavors; not to mention the bolts of pleasure that coursed through him with each heated thrust and he quickened his pace—in and out, faster, harder. So this was what it felt like to be with a woman, he discerned—Pure. Unadulterated. Ecstasy.

Panting vigorously as he neared the height of stimulation, Takeru felt her arms encircle his broad torso, nails scraping across his back as she fought to cling onto her sanity. He knew because he felt the exact same way. "I'm…coming…" he warned through erratic breaths, he was losing it.

She locked her feverish gaze with his in response. Scarlet eyes said it all and he thrust deep into her one last time before his orgasm engulfed him and he came inside of her with a loud cry.

Takeru saw white as wave after wave of aching pleasure wracked at his muscular body. He knew the girl beneath him shared in his bliss the moment she tightened around him considerably and moaned and arched at his pelvis with fierce pleasure he guessed equaled his own, throwing her head back.

And then it was over and all too soon they were to relax from their high.

Takeru slumped forwards from exhaustion, the hefty exertion having drained away his strength. He used what remained of it to halt himself from crushing his partner with his body weight.

Loath to remove himself from her he did so anyway, rolling onto his side and gazed longingly at the woman beside him—his first. She had given herself to him and he had basked in every second of the unforgettable experience.

Taking longer to recover from her bout of pleasurable spasms than he did, she took her time to respond to his gaze. He glimpsed fatigue in her eyes but no regret. Her breathtaking ginger hair fanned across the wrinkled sheets of the bed and he fingered a lock of it with hopeful care.

Eyeing her attractive frame, skin glistening with fresh sweat, her angelic beauty was something to behold. And then it occurred to him that maybe, just _maybe_, he was in love with her.

* * *

**Author's note: Haven't asked for reviews in the previous chapters but if possible I'd like some for this one, just because it's my first try at writing a lemon and I want to know how others think I did.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thank you for reviews of the previous chapter.**

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Takeru woke to the soothing hum of the air conditioning unit wafting cool air from the vent, yawning groggily as his consciousness began to settle in place. Willing tired eyelids open, the blond focused a short, half-a-minute of his time adjusting his eyes to the rose-pink light pouring in from the awning window; a sure sign dawn had arrived. Rubbing at his eyes with his right, he turned away from the window and was immediately overwhelmed with a glaring sense of insecurity as he took in his bearings.

Takeru sat up in abrupt motion, momentarily flummoxed at the unfamiliar room. What with its garish pink and red décor, any lingering sleep fled him fast. He threw a dubious look at the coral-almond striped dolphin on the far wall and was about to curse himself for whatever atrocity he'd let befall him the night before when he glimpsed his clothes draped over the arm of a nearby loveseat. The blond's lips transitioned into a mute "Oh" at the sight as events from the past twenty-four hours raced through his memory.

He'd slept with _her_. Takeru combed a nervous hand through his tousled hair, recalling the pleasures of his first time—the sights, the smells, the feels…

Last night had been perfection. Her willowy figure had been wonderful to descry, porcelain skin supple and soft like velvet silk to the touch, leaving a delectably sweet, fragrant tang on his lips where he'd tasted her…

The teen licked his bottom lip.

Then there was the sultry sounds of her voice as she moaned and groaned at his touch, and god the vampish gaze of her scarlet orbs had been overkill. But it wasn't just the brimming sensual look she had about her that had turned him on when they'd had sex, it was all of that, coupled with her evident experience, her continued reassurances at his clumsy ministrations, and how she had responded to each and every one of his attempts without reservation. His motions had to have been amateurish at best but she was so supportive, and understanding…and she had seen all of him...

"Oh god," he whispered hotly, the recollections threatening to make him hard all over again. Gosh he'd _slept_ with her. And speaking of _her_, where was she?

Takeru glanced over to where the redhead's sleeping form had lay mere hours before when they'd first drifted off to slumber. It was now empty. Rational or not, alarm surged through him. Had she up and left? Perhaps that was how things worked in this part of town but still, just like that—no goodbye note? Phone number? Something?

He scrambled from bed. Beat, they hadn't discussed anything about what they were going to do come morning. He himself had flitted off to sleep muttering a brief 'thank you' with his fingers still tangled in her brilliant red hair. Clearly he'd shifted his position since then, having woke facing the window instead of his lovely companion. But what would that matter now because she was gone.

The teen panicked. Eyes like a hawk he scanned the room frantic for a sign of her possessions. Her clothes were gone. There really was no note. The white robes they'd discarded the night before were still strewn across the carpet but neither article belonged to her. Hoping against hope she might be occupying the bathroom he burst in without care but sure enough she wasn't there either. Takeru felt the loss weigh heavily on his heart as he retreated to the bedroom. Tremors shocked through his being. Too many significant people had walked out of his life without a backward glance. Hopes of a naiveté certainly but he hadn't wanted her to be one of them. He really liked her—He. Really. _Liked_. Her.

And now…and now…

'_Shit!'_

He was about to let out an explosion of cursory language on the dolphin when he heard her voice behind him. "You…okay?"

Her tone was questioning his sanity. And as he spun to look at her he knew why—there he'd been, practically hysterical, about to scream obscenities at a striped dolphin hanging on the wall…stark naked.

Takeru swore he could see the skin of his own cheeks and neck flare red. There stood this girl he was head-over-heels in love with by the door, groomed and fully clothed with a weighted convenience store plastic bag in each hand, eyeballing him in all his naked glory.

"Whoa!" He yelped, grasping for his shirt off the couch arm to shield his southern parts from view, causing most of his clothing to tumble to a heap on the floor.

"I…uh…um," he mumbled, red as a tomato. The redhead plastered on an amused grin. "Nothing I haven't already seen last night," she said, stepping further into the room to set the bags on the loveseat. "Breakfast."

Takeru's nod was skittish, embarrassed. He'd looked a fool—oh god, how un-cool could he be. Bending to retrieve one of the robes, the girl strode towards him, draping the white material over his shoulders and held it shut by the front. Taking the cue, Takeru dropped the shirt, wriggled his arms through the large sleeves and consented to her tying the sash along his waist. "Um…thanks," he said, a little calmer now that he wasn't flashing her.

The girl sighed, giving the sash a slight tug to test its security. "You thought I'd left."

Her words ate at him. "I shouldn't have doubted you," he expressed hurriedly but she shook her head and looked up at him, scarlet orbs shining with a promise. "I won't leave."

"At least, not without acknowledging you first." Takeru smiled his relief, joy.

"Now go freshen up so we can eat," she said, half laughing as she shoved him in direction of the bath.


	6. Chapter 6

Hot water trickled down tired muscles like a heaven-scent healing balm. He couldn't stop smiling, he just couldn't. She hadn't left. Heck she'd brought him breakfast. Sure his brother had done the same at times when his mother was away, and of course Hikari loved popping over at random on weekends with simple treats, forever eager to spend a morning not eating her mother's crazyass concoctions but there was just something so entirely enlightening—on a different level—to knowing that this girl had done the same for him. After all, Yamato was family and Hikari just might as well be. The redhead however, had been a stranger to him before last night.

Takeru deduced, had she been one of those money-desperate women laundering about Kabukichou for male prey to leech off…she surely wouldn't have come back; let alone bearing food. Plus, he'd be damned walking home without money for ticket fare or something. The blond chuckled at that. He wasn't rich. His mother was well-enough off but she was far from spoiling him with bullocks of cash.

The teen lathered the aromatic soap in his hands, massaging it over himself. He just couldn't stop smiling. _'She stayed'_. It had to mean something. It had to mean…it had to mean she liked him. Or…that he at least stood a chance of turning last night into something…lasting.

Rejuvenated by the notion, Takeru finished his shower and toweled off. Stealing a quick view of himself in the display mirror and decidedly flexed his muscles at his reflection for the heck of it, the inner narcissist he never knew existed bubbling to the surface of his handsome exterior.

"_Sure you're not Mr. Popular with the girls?"_ He remembered her tease question. Plain enough, she liked his lean muscularity.

Stoked, Takeru fished a fresh towel off the rack and wrapped it securely around his waist, winking smugly at his doppelganger before heading back out to the room. Seeing her still present caused his heart to swell. She had said she wouldn't just up and leave but after his earlier episode waking up to her missing a minor hint of doubt had stuck with him. Now though, it was gone. Or at least, he thought it was…

His cheery disposition sapped as he approached her, suddenly concerned when he called and reached out to touch her and she all but flinched away. The cold reception shocked him. But more than that, it upset him. She had been fine moments ago and yet now the sight of her countenance, pale and more than a little shaken was hard to factor. It made him want to take her into his arms and blanket her in a thick layer of comfort and he struggled to refrain.

Takeru saw the way she braced herself, body stiff and rigid, almost…afraid of…him? What had brought on the change? Surely she knew he would never hurt her, not intentionally. So why was she cowering from him?

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked her trembling form, straining to keep the hurt out of his tone. Her silence was long-drawn-out. "Please…have I done something?"

Takeru reached for her again, cautious but steady, slightly relieved when she let him put his arms around her and re-angle her to him. The blond stilled his breath as he held her close. She smelled delicious, tantalizing, and god she felt so right in his arms, and even as the continuously heated thoughts flooded his mind he knew he couldn't afford to think them now; not when her posture remained rigid against him and his heart fell when she would not lift her eyes to meet his. Heavens knew he wanted so much to appease her.

"If I've…done something to…to hurt you…" he swallowed. "Please…if I've…I'm so sorry…please just let me make it right," he brought his hands to the hollows of her neck, stroking her jaw line with the pads of his thumbs affectionately.

'_Please…'_

"I love you," he breathed.

And there he'd said it. The truth. There was no way around what he felt for this girl. Waking up to her gone had been devastating and in the space of that frantic moment he had come to realize the throbbing urgency of his need—want—for her. He wanted to know her, to be with her, to ease her pain, and god he wanted her to love him back. But as he'd feared she tensed, trying to recoil from him. Nevertheless, just like the night before he wasn't ready to let her go.

"I love you!" He voiced again, a pleading whisper this time, loud enough so she could hear him with how close their faces were.

'_Please…'_

"You can't! You just can't!" The quivering unsteadiness of her tone made her words sound weak. She had meant it much harsher that that, Takeru knew. The awareness stabbed. All through the night before, no matter how strongly he'd come on to her she hadn't pushed him away. No, she had accepted every last inch of him willingly and they had made sweet, sweet love. So why now? Why now when rejection could only hurt ten times as much he had to yell it out.

"Because I know you! Takeru Takaishi, I know you!"

She finally looked at him, tearful scarlets charged with regret and a sorry expression. Her admittance shattered her resolve and she slumped against him, sobbing beside herself against his bare chest.

Takeru let her cry, not knowing what else to do as his mind fumbled over the blow of her words. His name—she'd known his name. The teen shuddered at the feel of her hot tears on his skin. He hadn't told her his name and she hadn't told him hers…and then he saw it. His wallet, splayed open atop his pants and the rest of his clothes once again draped neatly across the arm of the loveseat behind her. And there was his student card and an old group photo at Heighten View Terrace, taken when he was eight years old before everyone had moved elsewhere.

The youngest of the group, he'd stood in the center. His brother was behind him looking suave as always, Hikari to his right, and there on his left was a girl with mid-length copper hair scrunching down to his height, throwing a 'peace' sign at the camera and wearing a familiar smile.

Aquamarine eyes widened as the revelation hit him…hard—he'd _slept_ with her…

He'd slept with Sora Takenouchi.

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**Author's Note:**

**Thanks for the reviews of the previous chapter. Just thought I'd put it out there but odds are next chapter might be the last for this fanfic, pretty much because it started out as an experiment to see if I could write a 'lemon' and scale through darker topics/themes. Based on the few reviews I've gotten it's a little early to tell but perhaps I'm doing a decent job? Either way, there's enough material in here for a sequel which is already swimming around in my head though I may or may not attempt it as I'm starting college soon. That and it will likely depend on my mood. Regardless, thanks to those who took the time to read this story, feedback would be very much appreciated and I'll see you guys in the next chapter.**


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